Unthought of consiquences
by Meethrill
Summary: She had no idea what waited around the corner for her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know, until she made a mistake. A mistake that could cost her everything... Please R&R! :


Cheerful tones and notes wafted gently through the night air. The voices of a hundred other people less then a few feet away, to my right. Soft ooh's and ahhs that followed the few that had chosen to pose, showing off. I turned and watched along with them. It was still exciting, a breath of exhilaration and adrenaline that swept the body and mind, leaving you wondering, curious . . . but dulled, because you'd seen it before.

The one black vampire bared his fangs for everyone to see, showing them off to an excruciating angle, lips stretched back to give the best view, his mouth slightly open. Then he smiled, a normal smile, but with a hint of fang showing from behind the already thin flesh of his lips. He turned hazel eyes out to the crowd, pursing his lips into a sensual line, as though he was thinking. The night had just started, of course, and he probably wanted "lunch". The other one beside him looked almost bored. I turned away. That was something I didn't do.

Wouldn't, more alike. A man stopped me, and, looking down at me, he smiled. I returned the favor.

"Hey, bro."

"Nice to see ya, sis. What're you doing down here, though? Did you sneak out again?" he said the last with a frown, as though he not only suspected it, but also had expected it. I managed to look guilty. It was faux, of course. Brother was twenty-eight, and I was twenty-one. I didn't mind pretending to look like I was guilty if it could give me leeway.

"You could get killed down here. In more then one meaning, you know." I nodded tiredly. I knew. I looked up to meet his honey brown eyes with my yellowish brown ones. Ray was my brother, and a bouncer at one of the vampire owned businesses. Brother was also human, but that made little difference. He could already bench about three hundred pounds easily. No one would even suspect if they weren't sensitive. I actually hadn't meant to be caught by him, watching the public show offs, but apparently, someone had tattled, and he'd been watching for me ever since.

"Who told you?"

"Asher. And don't even pretend to not know whom I'm talking about. From what I hear, you two are friends, and came to meet him by him saving your life." He raised a brow, a habit he'd picked up from a lycanthrope buddy of his named Gimp, a Were leopard. I frowned because he was being totally unfair.

"I am twenty-one years old, bro. I can be out here if I want to. I only Look like I'm sixteen or seventeen years old. I have my I. D. So don't worry. Besides, if you can find me, Asher is probably keeping his keen, too." I pointed out, holding myself as tall as I could manage and not tiptoe. Amateur, yes, but a girl had to have her dignity, didn't she?

A look crossed his face and he looked angry, or, no, irritated, to say the least. I paused, wanting to take it back but not managing to quickly enough, as he turned to look behind him, and then turning back to me.

I noticed he was being paged, and sighed. I nodded and we both walked back to Guilty Pleasures, a vampire strip club with vampires, humans, and lycanthropes that were viewed as precious eye candy. It was where he worked. The door vampire, Buzz, hesitated before letting me in, but doing so. It was inside that I saw someone that jarred me with recognition. He had managed, for a moment, to look almost like Asher.

The dark, long curly hair was around his shoulders, bunching on them, like a black, velvet curtain. He was deathly pale and had eye's so deeply blue you could fall into them. I adverted my gaze, looking from the expensive leather, knee high boots to the tight leather pants and tucked in white, late French shirt with its ruffles and clean creased lines that said dry cleaning all over them. I looked at his face, avoiding the eyes because that was the rule.

"You look like Asher's alter ego." I said, before I could stop myself. The pale man smiled, and then laughed. Suddenly I felt the smooth silk feeling slide over my back. I knew then, that he was so not human. Vampire . . .? Well, that was more then likely.

Ray tapped my shoulder and said, though quietly, "no tricks." I frowned as I faced him, gawking. Who was playing tricks? Yeah, I was going to play tricks on a vampire! But he just smiled, and went to bus orders from the kitchen before I could say anything. When I looked back, the pale man was walking towards me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I?" He repeated. "I am Jean-Claude. It is a pleasure to meet you, Carrie. Ray has told me very much about you . . . and of how you and Asher seem to have met."

"News travels with him, doesn't it?" I asked, frowning.

"And why is that so bad?" Jean-Claude asked, looking amused.

"Bro makes Asher sound like the plague. Though they're acquaintances." I said, looking up to him. Jean-Claude had stopped about a foot away, looking at me as though he was listening but placing a puzzle together.

"Asher doe's not make friends easily. He and I have been friends for quite a while. He does take interest in you, however. What way did you meet Asher that he finds you so . . . worthy?"

I frowned at him. "Why?"

"Because I know your brother doesn't bother to speak the truth, and that I can smell a lie."

I stared at him, and paled. He could smell a lie?

Oh, goodie...

Asher and I had met very inconveniently of each other. I had been stolen from a seat and taken to a quiet place, an unwilling donor to a mystery vampire. He hadn't even bothered with the spell of his eyes, and I'd screamed that if he let me live, I would kill him. Asher had heard and rescued me, sufficiently scaring off the other vampire for me. He'd taken me to my house by use of my wallet, and had left me there.

Hesitantly, I told him this, and got the surprised blinking of his deep, ocean blue eyes in return. I frowned, looked at him and feeling confused. I shook my head. I needed an Aspirin. I had a horrid weight in my mind that screamed at me for some. I heard the music in the background behind me begin, but didn't look. Jean-Claude spoke into the small mike on his shirt that he had to turn on in order for it to work. I recognized the kind he used because brother had some. He was, in a sense, a collector. He loved to grab things like that. I grinned because I couldn't help but think it was funny.

Again, I got the look that said Jean-Claude was thinking something. "Who are you?" I asked, "I know your name but you don't seem like a 'normal' vampire. No offense." I noticed I was lingering, and he didn't really seem to want to answer me.

I looked behind me to look momentarily at a man that had pale yellow eyes and a long, slim body. Well muscled and moving to the thrum of the music, smooth and practiced. I turned back to Jean-Claude, and he smiled, looking lazy and content all at once. I began to wonder why he'd ignored my question so completely.

"I might ask you the same thing, Carrie. You don't seem interested in the show. Perhaps he is not to your liking?"

I was instantly annoyed. "How dare you ignore my question and then invade on what I think of others. If you're not going to answer then tell me so. I hate being kept in suspense. It's none of your business if I like something or not." I felt the smooth ride of cool power emit from him and wasn't sure what to do, so I looked to him, making a point of my not flinching or anything. The power wasn't hurting, yet. Although it gave me goose bumps, I was very sensitive to the cool and warm power of the lycanthrope and vampire.

Jean-Claude simply raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. You're brother is not sensitive."

"I've always been sensitive. Brother's friend Gimp drives me nuts sometimes. I mean, when he's mad, I can really feel it. It's like . . . well, like a million tiny daggers dancing on my skin. And that's not even when he's really, really mad."

Jean Claude began to look slightly amused, but the smile slipped. He was looking behind me, and I looked out of curiosity. Sure enough, there was someone nearing me, in a black leather jacket with gleaming white blonde hair, with beautiful dark eyes gleaming at me from his pale British face. I recognized him immediately and felt like I should either be running, or standing my ground. One other option was that maybe I could go hiding behind Jean-Claude. But stood my ground; ignoring his seep of power over me like a dancing, cool wind.

"Ah, we meet again; Ma Cherie . . . how is precious Asher? He seems to be away. However, you are still within another's territory. Do you hide, Carrie? Do you fear the pain of having been my donor for an eve? Do you fear becoming it again?" I turned to him, my whole body turned towards him. I did fear him, and that wasn't the only reason. Kiros was not known for keeping his victims alive. Ever. I've heard of him playing with his victims, driving them insane before death, turning them. Making them into vampires.

Yes, I feared him. And I was sure that he knew it.

Jean-Claude took a step forward, power flowing out in an impressive wave. I saw the stripper on the stage shiver, looking up with his yellow eyes. I looked to Kiros, ignoring the stripper as much as I could. Kiros smiled, baring teeth that any feline ever born, would envy. "I don't fear death, Master of the City of St. Louis. I am death. I will go, but watch her. You should have let me kill her."

Jean-Claude did not look amused. But Kiros turned, running a hand over my shoulder briefly, me wincing under his touch. I hated him and slapped his hand away, backing up. He didn't pursue me, but left, leaving me feeling cold thrills of his power that he left behind.

I looked up and at Jean-Claude over my shoulder, and he, I. Apparently, something had come across, but what? What was going on that I didn't know about? What had Kiros meant? Be wary of . . . me? Yeah, as if. I couldn't arm-wrestle my brother and he was human. I couldn't even arm-wrestle my mom. Why would a Vampire need to worry about me?

I didn't get it, but didn't care anyway, right now. Looking to him the shadows filled half of his face, lighting the other side, favoring it, even. "Why would you need to worry about me at all?" I asked him, finally a little angry. Mr. Brown eye's blonde had scared me, which transferred into light anger after so long. Only I was channeling it at Jean-Claude.

"Perhaps monsieur Kiros fears Necromancers." I wasn't sure what a necromancer was, and asked as much. Jean-Claude sighed, and looked as though he had a lot to explain. Or to keep from me. We both took seats at a table somewhat near the stage. I wondered why no one had taken this table before us. But it was early in the night. Somewhere around 11:30 or so.

"Necromancers are what you are. They can raise the dead and seem to have partial immunity to vampire eyes. Which you have demonstrated already." I looked down. Not sure of what to say. When I looked up at him again, he seemed to be thinking. But when wasn't he? I shook my head. I suddenly felt like that one lady on television yelling 'out, out, damned spot!' My headache wasn't leaving.

"Is that all, or is there more?"

"Oh, there is more."

"Do I want to hear it?"

"Probably not."

I sighed. What the hell? "Spill the beans. I can't learn from looking at your pretty blues all night." I knew I was wrong there, but whatever.

"Cherie? Let me ask you. How old do you think I am?" The question was so unexpected that I answered.

"Around four hundred and twenty, maybe more, maybe less." I felt like I was being tested. God. I hated that. Jean-Claude nodded. "Yes. Around that." He replied.

I frowned at him. How was this getting me anywhere? "You give me a headache. Where's Asher, anyway?" I looked away from him, over the crowd. I saw no one I knew, but noticed that some of them were looking over in our direction. I looked away, back to Jean-Claude.

"Asher will be on the stage tonight, so to speak. I doubt he knows that you are here. Or he might not." I frowned at him. "You mean he's going to strip?"

"Non. He will be offering a kiss." I stared at him. Unhappily. "What are you trying to get me into?"

"Nothing."

"Do you swear?"

"No."

I smiled. "You secret keeping liar." He nodded. "Indeed." Then he turned to the stage, looking as though he were interested in only one thing. Ok, maybe two. Asher slid out; his hair tossed to cover one side of his face, leaving the perfect angelic side out to the open, the scarred mess of his left, closed, away from peering eyes. He did not need to be announced. He had an aura that made you stop, made you listen. Cool blue eye's gazing about he stopped, looking out, though I'd known he had already seen me. Suddenly I heard Jean-Claude do as he had with the stripper before. His voice over the speaker made it feel like fur was running over my naked skin, smooth and warm like the fur was made for me, and me alone, and I tried ignoring it. When he said Kiss, people gasped, some smiled as though they longed for it. Some looked scared. I didn't know which I liked better. Fear will attract. Longing will only attract you to them.

Yeah. Longing seemed safer. But I did none of them. I watched Asher stand on the stage, looking out, and his face was a seductive mask. He looked to me, and Jean-Claude and a single eyebrow perched high, as though he'd been surprised. After that, a woman was chosen, and Asher drowned her mind, and I realized his bite could be very, very pleasant just by the fine way she breathed, and shivered. After he was done, and had left the stage, I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. Soft, and slightly cool. I looked to Jean-Claude.

"Shall we go meet him?"

"Sure. But I thought that Asher never did stage feeds?" Never hurts to ask.

"Non. He does, but very rarely."

I remembered the way Asher had fought so suddenly with Kiros. Why had he even bothered? Or cared? I didn't know. I stood, and followed him to Asher.

Here's hoping trusting vampires wouldn't get me killed.

Asher seemed to know we would be meeting up with him, and I gave him a smile, a hello, and wanted to hug him, but didn't. Somehow, I didn't think that was normal. I could just imagine going up to him and hugging him.

How silly.

How childish.

How . . . cute . . .

Finally, after the annual hello and smile, I began to feel crowded. Only so many of us can ever really feel equal, or even comfortable, with two vampires beside me. I wasn't one of them. I felt nervous and kind of like I wasn't supposed to be there. For gods sake I'm twenty-one. Not four hundred and twenty-one. Asher let his hand rest on my shoulder, and I looked up to him. I was shorter then he was, even if he was older then me. Who says people shrink with age?

Answer: Someone who obviously did not know a vampire.

"I didn't expect to see you in the crowd, Mon minet."

I frowned. Minet . . . minet? Cat? "Cat? Pardon but I'm not furry. Remember?" I smiled, making it a joke. He smiled too. "Your brother tells me of your numerous cats. Is it not a compliment if I call you one?" he asked, running his hand over my shoulder.

"I guess… but please don't. Why were you on stage tonight? I thought you never fed in public?" He took his hand back. "It was more of a tasting. If you noticed her other numerous scars about her, then the one fresh one? If she were sensitive, she would take change if I took too much. Like if I took from you now, with that bite on you, you could change, as well. Become like us . . . A vampire. Somehow I doubt that you truly distaste that idea entirely, but I think you becoming like me, would be a shame." He looked to Jean-Claude, who'd taken the chance to rub my shoulders. I was beginning to feel trapped.

I looked behind me, but the movement hurt, re-opening the ragged bite mark. I winced, and wanted to leave. "Will you be escorting her home?"

"He has threatened her?"

"Unfortunately. And as you can see, he doesn't like her very much." I looked away. I saw a tiny trickle of blood touch Jean's hand, and he paused, watching. I felt something in my stomach knot. Fear? No. Excitement? Partially. I wanted one of them to bite me. Quite literally, to give me the sensation I had seen on stage. Asher took those steps forward, and stared. I leaned back against Jean-Claude, patient.

"Are you so willing to take that chance? To offer yourself so freely to us?" Asher asked, looking to my eyes. After a moment, I met his, and didn't know.

"The bite is over a month. Isn't it safe?"

"Sometimes, Mon minet, it is wise to wait longer." There was something that was nagging me, telling me that it was, indeed, a bad idea, but there was also the one that said, 'yes, you know that you want to.' It only took a moment to think it, and I though ahead of it. It was up to them I decided. Although, I knew that they probably didn't want to decide for me, thus making me decide.

Gotta love the vice-versa theme. Yeah, right . . .

I looked up to them, and decided. "I doubt I'll change after a month between the first bite and this one. I'll wait, if you think it is safer." I said, and watched Jean-Claude tear his gaze away from my lightly bleeding wound, to look at me. His eyes had drowned into a deep, beautiful blue. They were like an ocean a blue fire in his eyes. I blinked and looked away for a moment, and realized that I'd nearly hypnotized myself. I felt Asher put his hands around my shoulders, running his hands gently over them and the side of my throat. He also kissed the top of my head.

"You must choose only one of us then, because we cannot both taste you."

I suddenly realized that had been what I wanted. I wanted them both to drink from me. But I leaned gently towards Asher, though Jean-Claude got the hint, he kissed my forehead very lightly, and then backed away.

He sat on the floor and watched us. Asher turned me toward him, and his drowned icy blue eyes momentarily startled me as I let him hold me in his arms, my hands were soon up against his back, and he leaned down and kissed my throat, gently. He then looked at me, and I focused on his eyes until I felt like I was being pulled in, and two sharp pricks, and I could feel him drink, and it was unreal, surreal in the best way.

I sighed, and soon, I could all but stand. When he was done, when the fantastic pleasure began to curb, I had my head on his shoulder and we were sitting on the floor, Asher was talking to Jean-Claude, and I realized that I must have blanked out for a moment of two. I never stopped breathing like I did in my sleep, feigning it.

It was no use, however. They were speaking French. I opened my eyes and saw Jean-Claude's attention flicker to me . . .

((((((Yes, I know, I'm terrible, horrible… well, maybe not. If you give me reviews, I'll finish it up. : )

Oh, yes . . . and yes, it is a Mary Sue. Oh the Terror! Give me a break… Mary Sue hunters beware . . . You're in for a scare . . . :Smiles evilly.: For the rest of you, you are free to come and review.


End file.
